


Girls

by orphan_account



Category: Life with Derek
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Angst and Humor, College, F/M, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Recreational Drug Use, Sibling Incest, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2021-01-05 19:50:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21214121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: She suffers through the uncertainty of college, suffers through something worse, and then at the end of the worlds worst fucking rainbow is Derek.





	1. Party girl

**Author's Note:**

> I genuinely don’t know how to tag and I also am not good at updates but I’ll try my best

Parties are only as fun as the amount of boys you can spot grinding into girls who look like they’d rather be caught flinging their own shit then talking to them. The agreement you sign in blood, guts and svedka encourages many a partygoer to forget who they are.

The real cost of girls gone wild is the amount of throw up they clean out of their backseat not the reminder of their of youth or even their growing alcohol problem. A party is social contract assigned for fun but mired in woe and it’s the best place in the world to be alone.

It’s predatory at worst and pathetic at best to watch myself lithely flit thru people enjoying themselves with an awkward frown glaring into their private lives. 

A peek into a drunken text message and the round gaze of man too high to be at a party, the stench of pain wafting from a girls 3 years too young to be here. The wet smack of kiss almost confused with the lips to a shot glass and it’s every bit of chaos I can stand.

The kitchen counter is littered with perfunctory shitty white boy party ornaments and it makes me wish to be solely decorative, a mantel piece starring a void. The listlessness of being perceived weighs at the shoulders. 

The shoddy workmanship of a frat kitchen is louvre worthy in all the ways it’s not and all the people gagging through conversation tempt my feet to recapture the lull of thought between my nerve endings. The lifted eyebrows of the greasy smile offering a drink tastes like chaos even before I snatch it and lift it to my lips. I pound another and his finger worry his bottom lip and I side step into another world

I flit and flit and the lights pulsate in time with the music and the world I live in. The people who wish to forget the one in where they reside melts into the ocean of sway. The push and pull and glide of the world under my feet. The pretty colors of nothing and mosh sweat. Everything that I can’t see binds to the light thrum of the music and it hurts so good to dissipate. 

Ornamental praises of men who I can’t imagine, pretty whispers at the edge of my consciousness. He smiles at the base of my world and I remember him. Greasy but easy on the eyes, the worlds worse piece of pizza and my head swims. He’s pretty and his teeth glow, the way a shark teeth’s gleam. He holds me around my waist and whatever pretense I collect from the wits of scarcity precede me. We lean into each other and it feels so good. 

The same way I feel unreal his body feels matter of fact and the nausea eating at my stomach encourages me to tug towards the restroom, far away. 

Away away away.

He guides me though I don’t feel him, I feel the girl next to me and I remember her too like a dream. The piercing through her nose jutting as if to warn, I yearn to touch it. 

He’s still pulling me and each sticky swipe of skin of people I don’t know drowns me like I’m swimming. Eight fucking feet under and god does it feel amazing to wade.

The dull thud of the music hammers softer into the edges of my skull or maybe the walls of this room. I don’t remember getting here but the boy. Pizza, 

what’s his name

Greasy bares his teeth and I collapse. 

I feel it when he picks me up and slides me onto the bed and his skin is sickly warm to each clammy part of skin I can’t particularly feel. I feel like laughing when he runs his hands along my skin, petting all over reminding me he’s here, I am too. 

I don’t feel him touch my clothes and I don’t remember falling asleep but apparently I wake up and my dress is undone and it’s not much that sleeping is the rip between the context I don’t feel. 

I can’t feel anything right now but I can see him, almost. I can’t concentrate and I can’t stay awake and I’m dying I think.

My heart isn’t pumping and I’m rocking slightly into the wall and I think I’m sighing. 

He’s here

He’s here 

I don’t feel him

He’s gone when I can remember to feel again, the itchy parts of my toes and the pain.

Searing pain starts up my back like falling into a gate and the window shines with mid morning light.

Party isn’t a contract I remember signing, but I don’t remember why I’m here, I don’t remember. 

I don’t remember


	2. Campus Girls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Case vs. Melting ice cream who would win

“Casey, Casey.” 

Funny how my name sloshes around my brain like a lie and whispers into my consciousness like a fucking threat.

The faint hum of streetlamp lights and morose downturned eyes of colleges students on the precipice of murder suicide with their English professors accompany me home but more apparent becomes the jingle of a lanyard smacking against clothes.

I hang my head scuttling along campus concrete and pray to god the bobbing head of, Ms.Perky meanders anywhere that isn’t my vicinity. I’m begging to a god that’s not listening to make probably the nicest girl in the world leave me alone and the whole situation is so ridiculous it makes me wanna cry.

The night sky settles on top of my skin and my tongue feels heavy in my mouth like I’m having an allergic reaction to breathing and when she glides into my “personal bubble” I contemplate the repercussions of running away and hiding in lavish U of T shrubbery. 

“Oh my god, Hi!”

My stomach turns in response, she sped up to catch me and I don’t slow down when she starts talking.

“How have you been, I literally haven’t seen in forever.” “I’ve been fucking drowning in Mr. Carpenter’s class and I just don’t remember ever feeling this dumb in my pathetic little college life.” She rattles off. It comes off in pants as I push my legs faster than comfortable

I don’t remember the rapport we supposedly have all of sudden but her smile sits in the back of my brain and her name disappears from wherever the brain keeps that 

“Hi.” 

She dips her eyes low over the crevice I’m not successfully wedging into the conversation. Peers over the top of my soul like I’m on fire. 

“Are you okay Case., Like for-real are you okay you’ve basically dropped off the side of the planet since like last month or something.”

I turn to her when she says my name disliking the intimacy it implies, she’s pretty and for a second it’s the only thing I can think about as we keep an almost breakneck pace against the asphalt. 

“I’m good honestly. Just tired.”

Tired ping pongs off the backboard of pleasantries were unfortunately exchanging we topple over eachother in words and silences too ugly to perforate

The campus lit up is so gorgeous late at night and the ice cream against my side in this stupid plastic bag is the only thing keeping me grounded.

She pushes on my shoulder after walking in front of me to stop me. She looks into my eyes now with pain or pity or whatever pussy p word that means she cares.

We stand like snow globe figurines at the edge of campus where the street lamps get sparse. Her smile falters and her pretty face skewers.

“I’m walking to my apartment right now.” 

Perky says it as demand, the solace of her care for me makes my stomach turn. She wants me to go her fucking dorm like the world is normal. 

I’m not moving forward and she’s not moving and I’m not talking and I’m still not talking and it’s so fucking awkward I wanna cry. 

I wish I could say something but I have nothing to say and my fucking ice cream is melting and there’s only one stupid 7/11 and now I’m trapped in a staring match with a girl who thinks her empty words have anything but the void inside them.

“Look I don’t want to go to your fucking apartment.” “Thank you or whatever. I just want to go to my own dorm and eat this ice cream.”

“We’re in Canada in October, your ice cream will be fine.”

Silence eats at the corners of my mouth and nibbles on chunks of the tears welling at the side of my eyes and I don’t turn to see the look on her face because I don’t want to. 

Don’t want to be bothered with any of this.

“Well ok. I’m just trying to help Casey.”

I tear my eyes away from her when she becomes blurry from my tears

“Look... I.. yaknow- I heard what happened.“

The sound of my heart deafens me and she’s still looking at me. Looking for something that I don’t have. I feel so fucking disgusted all of sudden.

Heard what. I don’t even know her. She knows what. 

She doesn’t even know me. My brain plays the sound of “heard what happened” like a skipping movie. 

I don’t say a word before I push past her down the street practically jogging. Leaving this awful awful fucking conversation right now. 

Her hand is on my shoulder again and I’m stopping. I don’t remember why. I don’t remember anything.

“Those frat parties are awful and the men there do awful shit dude,” but what, What are you gonna do?” “Die in that box of a dorm? Is that the plan?”

She’s behind me and I don’t look at her. I don’t need to.

She’s stopped me in the middle of street. My back aches from the cords of pain wrapped inside them and my heart is pounding out of my chest. Anger tastes so much like blood and the look of pity I imagine is on her face makes me want her to taste it too. 

I think I hear the anguish bubble from her lips more than the connection of my fist to her face, either way it’s jarring. 

Jarring and misplaced and terrible. 

I don’t think I saw her when I turned around, a misshapen sneer sliced into her smile and then it was wiped off.

I stand at the edge of precipice I created and don’t remember wanting to feel the fall.

She’s bleeding and I can feel it dripping down the engorged pieces of my heart. The darkness shrouds her disbelief and my mouth opens to say anything and closes around something malignant. Self torture and mutliation. 

How quick to decide it was that’d I’d be better off if she didn’t need to check up on me. My head spun on the idea and I so badly wanted to cry for some reason I had to stop breathing to keep the thick languid darkness at the base of my neck.

My breath is coming out so thick the tendrils of frost forming in the air remind me of what I done. A signature from the ghost of the girl I killed when I tasted her pain.

She picked up her dropped keys and phone and I watched her. I could only watch her.

I desperately wanted to apologize. I wanted her to hit me back. I wanted something to hurt but I could just feel the burn of tears in my eyes.

She shoved me hard and the resulting smack to the ground felt good for all the ways it felt bad. I heard her spit on the ground and I assumed it was blood and the shuffle of her walking away was the rejoice of silence of a bastard like me. 

I sat with my insanity and the culmination of a friendship.

I pushed upright and was blanketed in a darkness and enjoyed how cynical even my anemia could be.

I picked up the black bag with my ice cream and disappeared from own brain whilst I walked to my dorm. 

Shrouded in the lamp lit walkways to campus dorms, I tried to think about if I would ever punch somebody in the face if...

If.

I decided I wouldn’t but mostly that it didn’t matter either way.

My ice cream WAS melted when I sat down on my bed in my dorm room. 

Fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave feedback :). Looking for an editor


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